Catherine Swann Meets Jack Sparrow
by CaptainTurner is a Hufflepuff
Summary: Elizabeth Swann is a character whom we all know and love. She turns her back on her position in society and becomes a pirate. But what if she wasn't the first pirate in her family? Join Elizabeth's aunt, Catherine Swann, along with Francis Roberts and 16-year-old Jack in a 10-page adventure. Anamaria and Gibbs are there too. Read closely. First fanfic. Oneshot. OC's. No romance. T.


Catherine Swann Meets Jack Sparrow

On Tuesday, I learned the secret. It was more of a realization really. Not all pirates are bad people. Despite what the Royal Navy would have us all believe, not all pirates deserve to be hanged. Acts of piracy, though part of the seafaring life, occur in varying levels in a career mainly devoted to sailing. It can be a life of freedom and adventure. The thrills of this life, as well as an unexpected encounter, are what lead me to become a pirate myself. I was convinced of this on Monday:

As I hurried along the sandy wet street that served as Port Royal's main road, I heard a voice."Miss Swann." Looking over my shoulder, I saw Francis Roberts, the local tailor, beckoning to me from the door of his shop. Running over to him, I tripped on the cumbersome hem of my dress and fell to the ground. Muttering curses under my breath, I struggled back up and walked the rest of the way to Francis's shop."Why were you out in the rain?" He asked as I approached.

"I was walking on the beach." I said, slightly defensively.

"Again?" Francis shook his head slightly, looking exasperated and somewhat amused. "My lady, you must care for the ocean very much to have gone to visit with such dark clouds looming in the sky."

I smiled."Aye Francis, it is true that I love the ocean. You know me well. And please don't call me 'my lady,' it sounds so formal. You may have to be proper around my father, but I will not have my best friend talking to me like one of my servants."

Francis looked at my annoyed, pleading expression, then smirked and said, "As you wish, Miss Catherine."

"Don't call me…."

"Aye, aye," Francis laughed. "As you wish, _Catherine._ I know how much you hate formalities. Honestly, if you were given the chance, you'd wear men's clothes. In fact, I have a smaller pair of breaches that would probably fit you in the back of the shop…." At that moment, a commotion was heard outside and Francis and I ran to the door just in time to see a young man dashing down the street, his arms flailing about wildly, scattering chickens as he went. His hair was in beaded dreadlocks and his forehead was covered by an extremely weathered bandana. We had just enough time to take in this strange sight before he disappeared around the bend. Seconds later, bullets began raining down as a large group of soldiers ran up the road in a much more dignified fashion. They too disappeared around the corner, and the chickens once again assumed their positions in the road. By this time the rain had stopped, and I realized that it was getting late. Turning to Francis, who was staring open-mouthed at a bullet lodged in the ground near the doorway in which we were standing, I said,

"Well, I really must be getting home. It was a pleasure talking to you, Francis. Thank you for allowing me to take shelter from the rain in your shop."

"Uh-huh….."murmured Francis. Then, jerking his gaze away from the the bullet which had so narrowly missed his foot, he held open the door of his shop. As I walked past, I accidently brushed against him.

"Catherine, you are still soaked." he exclaimed. "When you reach your humble home, be sure to change into some clean, _dry_ clothes, and see if you can find out what that boy did." After he spoke these words, I merrily waved goodbye, promised to comply to his orders, and set off towards my home.

My home was in fact, a mansion. As the governor's daughter, I was treated to many luxuries. With that position in society came many formalities and rules which I must follow. The lot of them were a bother and I hated having to wear stiff corsets and act delicate and pretty whenever we had visitors. On my walks to the beach, I relaxed, as well as when I was in Francis's shop. As soon as I reached my home, however, I would always have to reassume my position as a well finished lady. This is why I often was so late in reaching home.

As I approached the front gates, soldiers opened them for me. Remembering my promise to Francis, I approached one of the younger guards, Christopher. Noticing me approaching him, he bowed respectfully.

"My lady, how may I assist you?"

"I was wondering if there has been any crime in town today."

"Oh yes. A young man attempted to rob the tavern. He almost got away with it too. Luckily, we managed to catch him."

"Where is he now?" I asked eagerly.

"In the stocks, where else?" Christopher replied, enjoying the treat of telling the story. "He has been robbing and pillaging all along the coastline lately. Strangely enough, he told us that himself.

"That's extremely odd." I said, bewildered and fascinated. "Did he give his name as well?" Christopher was now looking delighted. He rarely was able to talk about his services to anyone who cared.

He answered,"I demanded that he tell us his name, not expecting an answer, and he told me. Much to my surprise, the thief went on to tell me that he would someday be the most famous pirate on the sea. The fool. He has already earned himself some jail time. Once they investigate his claims of pillaging, he may have an appointment with the gallows. Shame, he seemed to be a bright boy, although a bit of a drunk, even at his young age of sixteen. He is still in the stocks, being terrorized by the townspeople. I talked to him, and he seemed to be nice enough, although a bit strange and self-centered. That boy didn't seem all that worried about his impending death, to be honest. He mostly just chatted, told tall tales, and verbally retaliated against the townspeople. He did mention something about escaping, but I don't see how he could."

"How terrible." I gasped, horrified at the thought of someone 5 years younger than myself hanging. "What did he say that his name was?"

"Jack Sparrow," answered the young guard. Thanking him, I entered my house.

I was still contemplating this strange name when my mother's favorite maid caught me. I had been trying to sneak quietly into my room, change, then come back down in time for dinner. However, my luck was against me, and I would now have to endure what inevitably would be a 20 minute lecture about how "proper ladies" should act.

"Catherine, why on earth are you so muddy? Your dress is ruined, and your hair will take hours to comb out. Were you out on the beach again? Of course you were. You're always out there by yourself, and that's another thing. A lady such as yourself should not be wandering around the port by herself it's disgraceful-"

"If I am lady, than you should address me as such," I said. This was the one person with whom I would prefer to maintain stiff formalities. It annoyed my mother's maid, Mrs. Blinow, to be reminded of her place quite as much as it annoyed me. Sure enough, she turned red with anger and she opened her mouth to give a sharp, fake apology. Interrupting her, I continued. "The dress is not ruined, and I am not always alone. Sometimes I am accompanied by Francis or the fishermen's daughters. Now, if you will please excuse me, I really must go and freshen up before dinner." Turning away from the furious housekeeper, I ascended the remaining stairs and entered my room. I knew that later I would pay for my outburst; Mrs. Blinow would complain to my mother and then would come an inescapable lecture, but for the time being I was satisfied.

As one maid began removing my hair from its once ornate style, another set to work cleaning my muddy face. After a short while, I was presentable and I headed down to dinner.

Jack Sparrow was disobeying orders. Before locking him in the stocks, a young soldier had ordered Jack to contemplate all possible meanings of the phrase, 'as silent as the dead.' Instead, Jack was imagining all possible ways to get revenge. ' _Why don't you let me know?' Jack thought viciously. 'You'll find out about death soon enough.'_ Jack drew a deep breath, then sighed. ' _While it is entertaining to daydream about revenge plans, escaping will probably prove to be more rewarding to me in the long run.'_ For the hundredth time, Jack attempted to wriggle his hands out of the stocks. Once again, the rough wood scratched at his skin. Scabs and blisters that had begun to form over the last half hour reopened, causing Jack to give some passing children a brief demonstration in sailor-speech. Reluctantly ceasing his efforts, Jack glared down at the stocks as if his wrathful gaze could sear through it. Sighing again, Jack sank back into his depression, wishing he could clutch his throbbing head. He wondered how on Earth he had gotten himself roped into this hopeless situation. ' _Oh yes, because I was charitable...'_

 _The grey light of a cloudy dawn lit the port. The fishermen had left in their boats many hours before, but the port town was still quiet and still. An ill wind blew, bearing the smell of rotting fish and stirring up the stench of horse manure and chamber pots. As the morning sun rose, it cast its light upon a teenage boy. He was trudging up the road, wrinkling his nose at the noxious breeze. At the sight of an open shop he sped up, for he was tired and cold. As he drew closer, he recognized the sounds of the tavern. Stepping inside, the boy scanned his surroundings. The tavern was half full, however, it appeared that the majority of the men had unintentionally spent the night in their chairs. Smirking, the boy tipped a drunk out of a chair and sat down it it himself. The tavern was warm, and perhaps later he would be able to scrounge up some food._

' _Steal it, you mean,' he argued with himself._

' _Same difference,' himself replied._

' _It's really not.'_

' _Yes it is'_

' _NO, it's not.'_

' _Stop being difficult.'_

 _Satisfied that he had won the argument, the boy settled himself more comfortably in his chair. He discreetly began examining the tavern's customers, scrutinizing their clothing and appearances to deduce which was most likely to be carrying gold coins. As his gaze flicked from one man to another, a movement caught his eye. Focusing on the corner, he made out a small person, about the size of a seven year old. Standing, the boy crossed the room. As he drew nearer to the figure, he saw it was indeed a child. A small girl stood in front of him, looking half dead from exhaustion and famine. Sensing him, the girl spun around and stared at him with wide eyes._

" _Do you have any food?" she asked tremulously. Shaking his head sympathetically, he answered,_

" _No, unfortunately I do not. But I could...obtain some. Would you like that?" She nodded empathetically._

" _Would you really share?" she implored, staring at him with huge, hungry eyes._

" _Of course." At that moment the boy caught sight of a smartly dressed man who had just entered the shop. The man's golden wristwatch flashed. "Be right back. Stay here." the boy said._

 _Darting across the room, he came up behind the man, who was conversing with the local innkeeper. He snaked his hand into the man's pocket and closed his fist around a handful of currency. The rich man did not notice. However, as the boy withdrew his fist, a strong hand gripped his wrist._

" _It seems that we have a little thief. What's your name, boy?" the owner of the strong hand demanded, his words slurring slightly._

" _Nobody."the boy answered._

" _Nobody, eh? You can try that one on the jailkeeper. I'm sure he'd-" At that moment the boy kicked the man with surprising force. Breaking away from the man's grip, the boy then grabbed a table and swung it at the man. The table connected with the man's head and he slumped to the ground. At this point every conscious person in the shop was staring at the scene. Scrambling over some tables, he grabbed a plate of food from a drunk, upsetting the drunk's drink. Quickly, the boy scooted across the tavern and wordlessly set the plate and most of the coins in front of the girl. Turning, the boy dashed for the door. Several men moved to block his exit. The boy grabbed a chair, stepped onto it, and wildly jumped as if he were going to attempt to make it over their heads. Instead, he dropped to the ground and slid under the men's legs. Instantly on his feet, he dropped the remaining stolen coins into his boot and took off running. He was much faster than the men behind him, however when he sprinted past some soldiers with an angry mob on his tail, they readied their guns and gave chase. It made matters worse when the rich man screeched,_

" _THIEF," and then "STOP HIM" The soldiers were now catching up quickly. Catching sight of the docks and a stack of crates, the boy attempted to change direction. Unfortunately, as he spun on his heel, he slipped in a puddle of muck. The boy crashed down, still moving forward. His head smashed into a stone wall and everything went black._

"I only just avoided Miss Binlow." I whispered to Francis as we hurried to meet Jack Sparrow. "I swear, that woman is terrifying. I saw her telling off a scullery maid. The poor girl was almost crying. I hope you don't mind me saying, that my mother's maid is _not_ my favorite person in the world."

"Not at all." He laughed. "Nor is she mine. I can't imagine living with her."

We continued complaining about her until we reached town.

"Oh look, there he is," I said. Indeed, we had reached the stocks.

Jack was bored out of his mind. He was sore all over. His legs burned from standing in such an uncomfortable position, he was sore from where townspeople had pinched or kicked him, and his head still throbbed. However, he hid all of this well. He had grown up with sailors; big, rough men. Jack had learned to fight dirty, talk dirty, and to never show weakness.

Locking his jaw, Jack lifted his head and stared down people passing by. He caught sight of a pair of young adults making their way towards him, laughing and talking as they went. One he recognized as Francis; a tall, broad-shouldered, curly haired boy with a bit of Italian blood. The other was a girl with dark, wavy hair, a tanned face, and piercing green eyes. As he watched the two, they waved to him and sped up.

Jack looked strangely unfazed as he awkwardly stood there. As we approached him, a little five-year-old girl ran up to him and squashed a peeled rotten mamey fruit in his face. Laughing, a young man around Jack's age called, " Serves you right, you filthy pirate. Come on, Annie."

"Coming Joshamee. You're going to hang in the morning, pirate!" Annie slapped Jack in the face surprisingly hard, then stuck her tongue out and ran away laughing. The young man scooped her up, praising her, and carried her over to one of his friends, whom Catherine knew to be her older brother.

Looking back at Jack, she saw him attempting to wipe the mamey off his face. He couldn't because of the stocks. Also noticing this, Francis took an already dirty rag from his pocket and dragged it down Jack's face. I grimaced at the state of the rag, but Jack didn't seem to mind; it was obvious that he hadn't washed in weeks anyway, perhaps months.

"Hello again, Francis." Jack said, grinning. "You've caught me at an embarrassing moment. Why are you back anyway? Have you come to lament my non-impending death?" Confused, I inquired,

"What makes you so sure that you will esc-?

"I just will. You'll see. I always do."

I was not so sure. It was beginning to become dark, and I knew that a cell was being prepared for Jack to spend his last night in. "Why did you try to steal from that man in the first place?" Jack looked up in mock surprise.

"What's this? You didn't relate any of my heroics to her, Francis? Who is she, anyways?"

"This is Miss-"

"My name is Catherine Swann. Feel free to address me directly; I can talk." Annoyed, I glared at him. I felt a bit guilty for snapping at a person who I'd just met, but to my surprise, rather than being offended, he appeared to be mildly impressed. Calmer now, but curious, I inquired. "What do mean, _heroics_?" I sounded more sceptical than I'd meant to. Francis began explaining what had happened in the tavern, while Jack 'helpfully' interjected comments such as,

"That man had _plenty_ of coins to spare. There was no need for him to be so selfish. I wasn't greedy. I left him one or two." After yesterday's adventures had been related, Jack went on to tell us about his past mishaps. It seemed that he was always stuck helping someone, even if that 'someone' was in an unfavorable situation because of Jack in the first place. Catherine found herself crying tears of mirth at his ridiculous escapes and cover stories.

"Jack is the worst pirate and the most insanely lucky person whom I have ever had the opportunity to meet.' Catherine thought to herself. 'Although it would seem that his luck has run out.' She added as a grim after-thought. It was such a shame that this _boy_ should have to die. Perhaps he could have reformed. Her grin dissipated. Francis noticed this and guessed the cause of her sudden solemness.

"You know," Francis whispered. "The wood around the lock is pretty weak. If I pretended to punch him, then I could…."

"What are you two whispering about?" asked Jack.

"We're going to get you out, seeing that we have not much risk of being caught." I replied. "However, you must promise not to steal anything for two fortnights."

"Excellent. I was hoping that you would reach that decision soon. I was beginning to get worried."

"Wait, what?" Francis asked, looking confused. "But you said…."

""Never you mind what I said. Get to work, or I shall be dead as a doorknob by noon."

"Alright." Consorting his face into a look of outrage, Francis began yelling at Jack, who screamed insults back. After a few seconds, Francis threw a punch at Jack, who yelled out in pain. A few men ran across the square and dragged Francis back.

"That's enough, gents. Break it up." Chuckling, the men released him and strolled back across the square. Francis cautiously made his way back over to Jack.

No-one had been close enough to notice that Francis's blown had landed just to the right of Jack's face. A large crack ran along to the other side of the wood, above the lock. Francis ripped the lock off in one swift motion.

"All right, Jack. We're going to cause a distraction. Wait for the soldier to leave his post, then run." Grinning, I nodded and began turning away. Francis grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear. "Catherine, what are you doing? We need to form a plan. One in which our personal safety comes first."

"I already have one. Anyways, where's the fun without a bit of danger?"

" So what is the plan then?"

"I've only come up with the first bit. I'll improvise as I go along."

"NO-" Francis began to protest. Smiling, I pressed my finger to my lips and slipped away. "She is _so_ impulsive." Francis confided in Jack.

I stealthily came up behind a cart selling eggs. I grasped one in my hand and took aim. A group of boys were standing in front of me. I threw the egg at the boy nearest to me. Startled, the boy spun around, looking about wildly. I ducked behind the cart as he began shouting at the other boys. Onlookers began to form a crowd as the first boy threw a punch at another. Feeling slightly guilty, I hurried unnoticed back over to Jack and Francis. The second boy retaliated, and other boys began to join in. The soldier by the stocks noticed the brawl and abandoned his post to break it up.

"It's now or never, Jack." I informed him. He smiled at me, and I immediately wished that he hadn't. Francis and I walked over to the group of cheering boys, the picture of nonchalance. Seconds later, Jack streaked away. People didn't begin shouting until minutes later, when the broken stocks were noticed.

"What do you mean, 'He escaped'?" I asked, pretending to be astonished and mildly displeased.

"He would seem to have broken out, ma'am, but I personally doubt it. Those locks could not have been reached by him. He must have had help, but I can't think who would have done it." Christopher looked excited. "Perhaps I will be the one to catch them. Then I may be promoted."

"Well if anyone does catch them, I hope that it's you, Christopher. I am going to walk on the beach now, excuse me."

Jack Sparrow and Francis were waiting on the beach for me.

"Well, it is time for me to go, gentlemen and ladies. They will always remember this as the time that they _almost_ caught Jack Sparrow." Jack proclaimed.

"Where will you go?" I asked. "Everyone is searching for you on land."

"I am going to commandeer that ship." said Jack, proudly pointing to a small decrepit fisherman's dingy.

"You're going to steal it?" Francis clarified. "You agreed not to."

"Yes. Nautical term. Would you rather me be captured again? Anyways, I never gave a word of consent to that agreement."

"Ummmm…." Francis hesitated, then chose not to answer.

"Excellent, you're starting to act like a pirate." said Jack. "You know, you could come with me. I am part of the Eagle's crew." Although the offer was directed to Francis, I suddenly realized that I would be happiest at sea.

"May I?" I asked, overcome with the temptation.

" I suppose…. You could be cabin girl, or help the cook…."

"Then it's decided. You will teach me to sail. Let me get my things."

"If you go, then I am coming as well." Francis. "But we should think this over first. It is a decision that should not be taken lightly." Jack listened, then stated,

"You two can think about it as much as you want, but I am sailing out to the Eagle at dusk. That gives you about three hours to decide." Francis looked worried about the deadline.

I smiled, knowing that my life was finally going to be filled with the adventure that I craved. I had already made my choice.

The sea breeze stung my face as we raced across the open sea. I had much to learn about being a sailor, but I was catching on fast. I sometimes missed the luxuries of being a lady, but I was far happier on the open sea. As Francis climbed up the rigging, I knew that he felt more at ease here as well. I fell to daydreaming, thinking about my father, the servants, and Christopher, and what they would think if they saw me in men's clothes. Then, smiling, I wondered if Mrs. Binlow had discovered the surprises that I had left behind.

* _Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.*_


End file.
